Passion's Killing Floor
by SeleneSoulwar
Summary: Series of drabbles for the Halloween challenge on lj. Of Black Cats, Costumes, Orange, Fog, Darkness, Ghost, Pumpkin, Trick, Spider Webs, Crescent Moon, Graveyard, Treat and Thirteen. Sweet, dark, humorous - take your pick. ProwlxJazz and others.
1. Black Cat

_Author's Note:_

_Apologies for the incredibly long absence. Writer's block knocked on my door, as well as graduation year and life in general._

_I've breached into the Transformers fandom again this summer, and got sucked in mercilessly. XD This is my first dabble into writing using these gentlemechs, so apologies if the characterization is off._

_The Prowl x Jazz community is hoisting a Halloween challenge for thirteen prompts. I hope I can make them on time – deadline's the 31__st__ C:_

_Anyways, I hope you enjoy~_

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_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: Post-2007 Movie  
Warnings: Implied slash, supernatural themes, slight gore, hint at character death. **_

**--------**

**2. Black cat  
**

That furry little organic was back again.

It had first appeared when he had chosen to relocate himself from his office out into the inky darkness of the night, wishing for nothing more then a few minutes of quiet and the absence of a roof above his helm.

Something he found himself craving for, and consequently seeking out quite a lot these days.

It had been three nights ago when he had noticed the presence of the unknown black cat.

Jazz had liked them.

He found their habits entertaining and fascinating, at times completely devoting his attention to a stalking feline, pointing out odd little facts that made no sense at all, but had made everybody chuckle.

Called them beautiful, graceful.

Prowl hadn't harboured such warm feelings towards the felines – it must have been the uncanny resemblance they bore to Soundwave's annoyingly skilled casseticon, one that had given many of the Autobots numerous, long-lasting souvenirs of his battlelust and affection. However, his mate's cheerful explanations (coupled together with a demonstration of low purring and…slinking around and clawing the tactician's composed nature to shreds…) had somewhat softened his negative views into companionable neutrality.

However, the cat's punctual and regular appearance was just…strangely and chillingly…coincidental.

Cocking its head, the ebony cat mewled in its low, unusually raspy voice, lifting a paw to lap at an evidently sore paw.

…Jazz had liked them…

Perhaps it was the eyes of the organic creature – so strikingly different from the average feline. Not yellow, green or meddled with tints of rust and brown – but blue – brilliant, cobalt, with speckles of turquoise secrets littered across both irises.

So blue.

So blue they almost hurt to look directly into.

So blue they almost cut through the descending darkness of Earth's dusk, characteristically glowing in a painfully familiar manner.

…so blue…choking, enticing him to come and drown in them, to fall, fall, fall without any regrets, any control, because he would be caught, embraced, protected before any of them hit the ground…black, white, blue, silver, cobalt, marine, jade, blue, blue, blue…

But they were mere shards compared to the layered optics of his mate, the brightly glowing visor that revealed so little of the saboteur's face, yet said so much in its own, introspective way.

Shards…scattered, broken shards…

Prowl frowned as the cat abandoned licking at its paw, ivory canines flashing in the low light as it began to nip and tug at his wounded limb, trying to catch something embedded deep in the soft tissue.

Stifling the sigh and the sudden feedback from his logic centre, Prowl watched the animal struggle for a few more minutes before pushing himself to his pedes and approaching the cat, stopping warily as it raised its head and watched him, ears flat against its skull.

Making no indication of noticing what must have been a suspicious glare, the Autobot second in command lowered himself down next to the cat, long fingers wrapping carefully around a paw and lifting it up for inspection.

It was a shard of broken glass, dirtied and stained by the cat's blood – Prowl was surprised to see the cut wasn't badly infected.

Making a soft sound in the back of his throat, he grasped the shard and freed it, flinching a little at the angry, pained hiss of the animal.

"Shhh…" he murmured subconsciously, releasing the paw and glancing beside him before holding up the shard for inspection.

It was a dirtied and bloodstained piece of glass.

A cobalt piece of glass.

With a smooth finish around an edge…the little trademark bearing the Cybertronian marksmanship edging in…

_No._

Managing to tear his gaze away, Prowl whipped his head around to see the cat standing behind him, narrowed cobalt gaze now calm and almost nonchalant.

It tail flicked in a silent invitation.

He followed.

-

They had been scattered all over the field.

How they had gotten there, he had no idea – and quite frankly, right now, he didn't care for facts and accuracies of how parts of his deceased beloved's body had ended up so far away from Mission City.

White fingers brushed against the scattered shards, uncovering smaller pieces, buried into the rich-smelling, heavy earth.

The cobalt pieces glinted in the moonlight - cold, precise, knowing – familiar, soothing, _seeing-_

…he did always look so beautiful, silver components bathed in moonlight…

Behind him, tail curled around its body, the black cat raised his wounded paw to his mouth, cobalt eyes fixed in a distant, perhaps invisible point amongst the stars.

Hope you enjoyed~ :D Drop me a comment, please?

Also, prompts are much welcomed and loved~ :D


	2. Costumes

A very big thank you to VeekaIzhanez for the short but quite prompt and sweet review, Athelhelde, babycullenwinchester, BashfulPersian and thephoenixqueen for their faves/alerts~ C:

This next one is a lot more lighthearted and humorous.

Comments and prompts are craved and welcomed. XD

_I hope you enjoy~_

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_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: G1  
Warnings: Implied slash/threesome…some…violence via enraged mechs with wounded egos…?**_

_**----**_

**5. Costumes  
(G1)**

"Y'got any ideas of costumes fer this year, Blue?"

"A couple. Sides said we should dress up as the Unholy Trinity this year…"

"That's creative. Any reasons as t'why?"

"…He said they'd be fun to impersonate, as well as exploit the fact those three have absolutely no shame whatsoever…"

Quiet chuckling. "Y'really are set to traumatize Mirage, aren't ya?"

"You didn't see what I saw last Halloween, seriously, can't look at another…another anything about or with vampires because…oh, Primus."

More soft laughter and a sympathetic pat on the helm. "So who are y'goin' t'be?"

"Thundercracker. Because of the whole broody aspect apparently which I really don't get because I'm not broody and neither is Thundercracker, do you see him brooding when he's shooting at us in battle? I don't mind, though, as far as colouring goes and all. I think Sunstreaker said he would take Skywarp because purple doesn't clash badly with yellow should anything go wrong or something-"

Snort. "Figures."

"…that was, until Sidesswipe pointed out he should be Starscream because…because his vanity even sort of overshadowed Screamer's…"

Silence.

"…can't imagine _that_ was well received…"

"Nope. Aren't you wondering why I'm up here getting energon by myself and armed with a paintgun?"

"…good point."

Crackling of neon lights. In the distance, a disdained soul cried his despair to the merciless dusk, rubber squealing in valiant but vain (oh, the sweet sting of irony…) effort to put distance in between him and the approaching yellow disaster.

"…which corridors should I avoid?"

"Second floor, around the storage rooms and the medbay too..."

"Thank'ya."

Crates crashing. Scuttling and screeching as fleeing was attempted. More screams.

"Y'reckon he knows how t'hide the body well enough fer Ratchet or Prime not to find him until it's too late?"

"…_Jazz_…"

"Jest sayin', Blue. Jest sayin'."

Up next: _Orange_. Probably the silliest of the lot…

Review please?


	3. Orange

_A very big thank you to LittleMeanPepperShaker, Falloway, Blood Shifter2 and Hot Rod's Girl for their faves/alerts~ C:_

_LittleMeanPepperShaker: _Sideswipe has never been well-known for tact, has he? XDD He should have known what he was bringing on himself nevertheless…honesty is not always the best policy~

Thank you so very much for your kind words~ :D I am so glad you are enjoying this collection so far, and hope you will continue to do so!

It is a terrible, terrible shame about Jazz – I would have absolutely loved to see more of him in the movie(s). T_T The kitten wasn't supposed to be Jazz himself, per se, although you could interpret it like that if you like. To be perfectly honest, I had no clear ideas/intentions when I wrote that drabble, but I liked how it came out, all strange and ambiguous. C:

Hehehe, that's a great idea! I might use that for the prompt 'Trick', I didn't have anything for that~ XDD Thank you again and don't worry bout it – long reviews are love~ :3

_This prompt was actually the first I wrote, so it might be a little sloppy. Also, very silly. I hope you enjoy~_

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_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

**Universe: G1  
Warnings:…general silliness, light implied slash.**

**----**

**7. Orange**

"Alrigh'…I spy…with my little optics…s'methin' that's…orange."

Lowering the datapad his attention was previously directed towards, Prowl gave his grinning mate a look that to the other participants of the game translated to 'Honey, you're doing it again' in common Cybertronian.

"Jazz, didn't one of the main rules consist of only giving the first letter of the chosen object as a clue?"

"It did, didn' it? My bad. S'methin' that's the colour beginnin' with the letter 'O'."

Ignoring the tactician's deadpan, Jazz leaned back against the couch with a grin, watching the contemplating faces of the others.

"Wrench?" Bluestreak ventured first, scratching his helm thoughtfully and pointing to said object on the floor.

"Nope."

"Those crates?"

"Nope."

"Something stuck under the desk."

"Nope."

"Gone-off energon?"

"Actually, that would be more purple-ish. Nope."

The twins and Bluestreak shrugged, looking around for external support and suggestions.

"…Opaque reflector shields."

"…Perceptor, that's not orange."

"It has a slight tint to it."

Jazz chuckled and shook his head again. "Nope."

"Blaster!" Ironhide called over from the other side of the rec room, pointing in the direction of the very orange mech's office - and earning himself a smack across the back of the helm from Ratchet, previously engaged in fixing said pointing appendage.

"What?" came the muffled reply.

"Nope!"

"Nope what?"

"Nope, I have no idea what an' where y'were last night, buddy. Any more takers?"

"Uuuuh…them funky organic things humans like to sadistically attack and hack into different shapes at this time of the year?"

"Sort o'close, but nah." Jazz smiled, absentmindedly adjusting his visor before tilting his head back, grinning at the silent Datsun.

"Y'wanna venture a guess, Prowler?"

Glancing up from the report, Prowl was met with the expectant gazes of two-thirds of the rec room's current 'population'. Stifling a sigh (and a small smile alongside it), the tactician reached over the armrest of the couch – and plucked the round fruit nestled in between empty energon cubes in the large round bowl the bots have dubbed as the temporary rubbish container, holding it up for the rest of the mechs to see, lip compartments twitching as Jazz's figure began to shake with suppressed laughter.

"Orange." He stated in a perfectly flat voice, arching an optic brow elegantly as Sunstreaker made a sound closely reassembling a mouse being stepped on. "Bluestreak, help Sunstreaker pick his jaw up from the floor. I believe Ratchet has his hands full already with various appendages falling off."

Carefully tossing what must have been the remains of Carly's lunch back to the bowl, Prowl placed the data pad on the table and slid down next to his now giggling mate, turning to the still muted audience with an innocent look.

"I believe it's my turn then, is it not?"

_Next up: Darkness. _

_Review please~?_


	4. Fog

A very big thank you to Hot Rod's Girl and Silverwing5566

for their faves/alerts~ C:

_Silverwing5566: _Thank you very much! XDD Pumpkin's a good guess, but that's a separate prompt. :3

Hehe, it's a good thing Prowl can deal with Jazz's antics now without crashing his processor :P

_Hot Rod's Girl: _*guilty giggle* That one was the first thing that started me off on this challenge – it was just so…silly, but so very appropriate. I'm glad you found it funny. XDD

No one beats Prowl at observation, however deadpan and obvious it may be! :3

Despite saying 'Darkness' was up next, this one actually turned out to be a prequel of sorts to 'Darkness'. So I'm uploading them in 'chronological order' to make it easier to read. XD

A lot darker this time, and set before/during the 2007 Movieverse, although it's safe to say it's _very _AU.

_I hope you enjoy~_

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_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: AU 2007 Movieverse  
Warnings: Implied slash, violence, slight gore, implied torture.**_

_**----**_

**10. Fog  
**

He had been careless.

"_Temperatures are expected to drop about three degrees today, and a thick fog is predicted. We ask all drivers to be cautious and safe on the roads-"_

So, so careless.

"_Prowl! Incoming! Get out of th-"_

If he could trigger an out-of-body experience at will, he would be thoroughly scolding himself by now.

"_Take care not to harm his main fuel line. We want him more or less coherent for the…interrogation."_

"_What's the point? Soundwave won't require his vocalizer to get what he wants…"_

Then again, his internal-turned-exterior argument would just have been interrupted by the Decepticons currently crowding around his immobilized figure.

"_Are you kidding? We've been waiting to catch this one off-guard for slagging…Primus, must have been centuries by now."_

And their words would have been impossible to hear over the screeches of metal being forced apart and molten together again, energon forced out of its natural course of flow, the crazed laughs rewarding each small sound when the agony got too much.

"_Megatron wants to hear him /sing/."_

So, so careless…

**-**

"Report."

"Situation: Identical to previous report. Subject: Unaffected by physical persuasion."

Crimson optics lingered over the slump figure of the Autobot's Second in Command, held upright by a set of thick chains around each wrist, scratched and battered paint splattered with drying energon. A small chuckle followed Soundwave's report.

"I see." Megatron murmured, not surprised at Prowl's resistance. He would have been disappointed if the police cruiser had crumbled under the physical 'persuasion'. "What would you suggest as the next course of interrogation, Soundwave?"

"Telepathical intrusion: Advised." Came the monotone reply, Sounwave's visor flashing lowly, a clawed finger tapping warningly against his chest when the twin cassettes' muffled sniggers filtered through the thick glass.

Laughing lowly at his subordinates' amusement, Megatron waved a hand towards the chained figure. "Well then – by all means. Proceed."

-

Silence.

Motionless.

Bliss.

Hanging in between the realms of conscious and unconscious, Prowl could only guess the passing of the time with every session of interrogation Megatron ordered.

His pain sensors have shut off some time ago, the blows retreating into numbness, shattered occasionally by a more serious blow.

Too late, hanging in blissful oblivion, did he notice the cold touch of another presence – before his mind was flooded with its iron grip.

Stiffening, he struggled to pull up his firewalls, repel the attack – but it was a hopeless attempt, the intruder shutting them down one by one before moving to explore the depths of his mind.

Skirting around the still tight protected region of tactics and military secrets, the invader latched onto his personal processor, tendrils burrowing themselves deep into his memories, enticing a wave of tired rage from the police cruiser.

_GET O-_

Images flashed in his vision in quick succession – creators, sparkling acquaintances – academies, the first flash of a cobalt visor –

"_Hey – m'lookin' for Prime's office. Y'happen to know where it is?"_

Stiffening in his restraints, Prowl felt ready to purge his tanks then – guaranteed there was anything left in them.

"_Guess I'll be seeing a lot more o'ya, then? M'Jazz, by the way. Pleasure t'meet'ya."_

Dark corridors. Corners. Tight servos clasped around his shoulders, the other's presence overwhelming and wedged deep in memory.

"_Yer a very bad, bad mech, aren't ya, underneath all your clean white paint?"_

"_Oh, Jazz. You have no idea."_

New locations. Same person. Same emotions. He was beyond trying to control them, making sense of the choking fog settling over his mind.

"_Heh, bite me, Prowler."_

"_Is that an invitation?"_

"_How 'bout y'come an' find out?"_

"…_I'll rephrase it as a challenge then."_

It was quicker now – accompanied by snippets and sudden bursts of emotion – rage, confusion, warmth, tenderness, pleasure, attachment, spark-wrenching sadness at the notion of having to spend centuries apart, searching…

With a thoughtful hum, Soundwave drew back from the now struggling and shaking mech's mind, turning to his very anticipatory-looking Lord.

"Exploitable source: Found."

_Comments/Prompts are loved. C:_

_Up Next: Darkness._


	5. Darkness

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86 and Illusion224 for their faves/alerts~ C:

_Hot Rod's Girl: _Well, that depends on what you define 'well' as…XD Nevertheless, I'm sure our Oreo-bots are quite thankful for the little sanctuary, wherever that is!

And thank you~ :D

_PrancingTiger86: _Thank you so much! Hope you'll like this chapter too~ :D

_LittleMeanPepperShaker: _Give the old mech a break, hun~ XDD I guess this is what happens when you don't train yer mechs for old Soundwave's mind-hacking...put that in the programme, Prime!

Heh, Jazz will be Jazz. Same old same old, no matter how many centuries he lives. :P

I find telepathy so very interesting, yet so stomach-churningly creepy at the same time D:

Eee, you're too kind, lovely. 3 I hope the answers and events in this chappy are satisfactory an worth the wait~ C:

So, here's the 'sequel' of sorts to 'Fog', and where Jazz comes in the picture – really hope you guys like it.

The idea was spawned by some loverly art by Vejiraziel on LJ/dA. Anyone who loves ProwlxJazz should definitely check her out/should already know her~ XD

Also, there's slash. Nothing too explicit, but yeah~ (Finally, eh? XD)

Takes place after the Mission City Battle.

_I hope you enjoy~_

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_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: AU 2007 Movieverse  
Warnings: Slash…some mind-fuckery?**_

_**----**_

**Darkness**

**-**

_It's poetry carved in flesh  
This beautiful hell of ours  
To the deadliest sin we confess  
(Tears of joy fill our eyes)  
We are safe where disfigured saints  
Cry out their prophecies of doom…  
__**HIM – Passion's Killing Floor**_

_-_

The world swam around him in its ebbing, soothing, terrifying manner – very different to previous visits into this realm of darkness and doubt.

This time, the bodiless mist seemed thicker, curving around his body – body? – in a strangely enticing manner.

_Seduced by the darkness? Now that's new. Usually it cannot wait t'kick my aft back into the land of th'livin' an' conscious…_

As if to hear his wayward and hazy thoughts, the shadows churned in a somewhat mocking manner before the familiar pull tugged on his spark, and darkness faded to grey and black and empty.

-

_Come, little one. Your Hell awaits._

-

"Back to the land of the functioning, are we?"

Stirring out of the painful haze – a somewhat annoying side-effect of being knocked unconscious - , Jazz voiced his discomfort in a quiet groan, turning his head towards the source of the voice.

Strangely familiar voice, that one was…but not the cranky voice of their medic he had been accustomed to hear, and was expecting the first thing to be greeting him after another 'come-back from death'.

"You were particularly close to being offlined this time. Even more close then you usually come to meeting our Maker." The voice continued in its hushed, smooth tones, accompanied by various quiet tingles of tools being arranged and stowed away. "It would be wise not to be so brash as to anger Lord Megatron in such manner next time, little saboteur."

…_Lord _Megatron?

_Oh, Pit no._

Immediately, Jazz shot up, scrambling into a defensive position – or he would have, have his movements not been sharply halted by the restraints around his wrists, chest and ankles.

Biting back his gasp of surprise and frustration, Jazz threw his weight against the bonds, squirming and twisting – with no avail. They didn't even so much as budge an inch.

_Frag!_

"W-what happened?" he demanded once he found his voice again, continuing his futile struggle against the bonds, much to the amusement of the shadowed mech. "The battle-"

"Well, that's not any of your concern anymore, now is it?" the Decepticon chuckled, laughing quietly as anger flashed through the silver mech's face, directed towards him in form of a glare that could have singed metal with its intensity. "But no need to worry, little one, your comrades are alive."

Relief washed over Jazz for a seconds, retreating to give way to worry and wary suspicion as his captor slowly sauntered over to the side of whatever raised surface he was strapped down on.

An arm raised and the dim light caught on the gracefully curved plate protecting important circuitry – ivory, with bold grey writing declaring the mech's alt mode to be one of the Earth law forc-

_No._

The next demand, alongside a scathing remark damning both the mysterious mech and Megatron to the depths of the Pit and back died in the back of his vocalizer, just as a clawed finger pressed gently against his lips.

Optics widened and shoulders slacked, not making a move as his visor was carefully pushed out of the way, allowing wide cobalt crystal to meet amused and satisfied red.

"Hello, Jazz."

Sleek chevrons crowning his helm, once brilliant scarlet, now painted slick and black. The once dominant pearly hues gave way to chromed ebony, smooth angles now sharp and dipped, glistening with a navy tint as he moved into a more comfortable position, the little smirk never leaving the corner of his mouth.

"I cannot tell you how pleasant it is to finally set optics on you after all this time, dearest."

The finger slipped from his lips to trace along the side of his face, caressing his cheek, each movement burning with familiarity in the saboteur's shocked processor, the usual gentle touch tinged with a new sort of confidence, knife-sharp control.

"Did you miss me?" he murmured, dipping his head to nuzzle that small spot below the saboteur's audio, the one he knew would send the other's body twisting in pleasant shivers, the saboteur's moans music to his ears.

"B…Barricade?" Jazz managed to gasp, head tipping back as that unbearably heated glossa started teasing and tasting the fuel line running along the side of his neck, hands clenching against the restraints as he struggled to make sense of his bewildered thoughts.

_Prowl?_

"He was missing then." The police cruiser offered as a casual explanation, clawed hands drifting down Jazz's body, lingering over his recently altered and upgraded parts with interest. "They needed another spy. So, with so little difference in alt modes with…their most recent prisoner and their missing spy…the next course of action was quite logical."

_Logical?_

There was absolutely nothing logical in this – nothing whatsoever. His body, starved for his mate that he missed so desperately all these vorns, was reacting eagerly to the knowing touches, intent to transform the restrained saboteur into a trembling heap of want and need.

"And it was pleasantly surprising, finding out you were one of the first ones landing on this little dirtball of a planet." Prowl(? Barricade? Oo-_ooh_, Primus, _yes, there…)_ continued, fangs nipping at Jazz's headlights, earning a heated mewl and renewed squirming. "Although, not so much, if you think about it. My loyal little Jazz…so eager and earnest…"

"P-prowl…"

The mech paused in his ministrations at the strangled cry, cocking his head briefly before chuckling darkly, leaning down to press their lips together, drowning out any further coherent words the saboteur might had to say.

Ignoring a few of the orders and distress calls from the stray Decepticons, foolish enough to charge headfirst into that battle against the humans and the Autobots instead of sticking to his plan, the police cruiser shifted to press closer against his mate.

Lord Megatron was right when claiming to be quite generous to his followers.

_Reviews and suggestions are still loved and welcome._

_Next up (unless the muses have something else to say…): Ghost._


	6. Ghost

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86, Hot Rod's Girl, LittleMeanPepperShaker and Mirage Shinkiro for their faves/alerts~ C:

_Hot Rod's Girl: Thank you very muuuch, I'm glad you liked it! And I love that word 'enticing'…XD Hope this chappie is to your liking too~ _

_PrancingTiger86: _Thank you so much! Glad you liked Prowl's unwanted upgrade~ XD Maybe he enjoys it too, at some level. :P Hope you like this chapter too~

_LittleMeanPepperShaker: _It's very unlike me to update so quickly. Nevertheless, I'm guessing s'good~ _XD_

Hehe, what /were/ you expecting? I am curious~ :D

Barricade wannabe...*giggles* That's a good description. And it's a pretty scary thought as to what Prowl would do if his infamous control vanished, don't you think? He'd make a creepy, decent Decepticon DDD:

Again, thank you so very much for your kind words and praises! I hope I'll continue to please~ C:

_Mirage Shinkiro: _Thank you so very much for your reviews – from you, especially, whose stories I adore, it's such a great compliment~ 3 The mechs appreciate the worry and hope you'll like the next chapters to come too C:

Sequel of sorts to 'Darkness', a little more angsty take on the whole Prowl/Barricade scene. Not a direct continuation…but set in the same verse. I'll try and slip in something as a 'direct' continuation C:

The idea was spawned by some loverly art by Vejiraziel on LJ/dA. Anyone who loves ProwlxJazz should definitely check her out/should already know her~ XD

A day left! Argh, I still have six prompts to go D: I'll make it!! I'll make it!!

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: AU 2007 Movieverse  
Warnings: Slash, little angst.**_

_**----**_

**3. Ghost  
**

–_noun_

**1. The soul of a dead person, a disembodied spirit imagined, usually as a vague, shadowy or evanescent form, as wandering among or haunting living persons.**

**2. A mere shadow or semblance; a trace.**

**3. A remote possibility.**

**+ An annoying spark, kicked out of the Pit by Unicron himself due to over-exceeding levels of the annoying factor and sent back into existence in a new body (either fabricated in some mystical way or stolen).**

**Primary example: Starscream**

**Because Megatron needs his berth warm and his reflexes in good condition. **

_**(Original entry: Prowl**_

_**Additional edit: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Note: Edit not approved/proof-read yet.)**_

**-**

**Message from: O. P. to Jazz**

**Permit the opening of comm.-line?**

…**Accepted.**

…_**Jazz, Ratchet commed me.**_

…_**heh, is it 'bout my drug records? He's the one who assigned them all, Prime.**_

…_**Jazz. Please.**_

_**Alrigh', alrigh'. M'sorry. I'll stop…I'll try t'a.**_

_**You can't tie up all the loose ends he left behind, Jazz, as…admirable it is.**_

_**I ain't tying up the loose ends, Prime. That would indicate the loss of attachment, or the intent t'loose the attachments. I intend neither.**_

…_**Jazz…**_

_**Acknowledged. Thank ya fer yer concern.**_

_**You know it would be better for both of you for him…to be gone. As cruel as it sounds, Jazz.**_

…_**Acknowledged…and previously realized, Prime. Painfully.**_

_**Roger that.**_

_**/Close comm. Line?/**_

…_**Comm. Line closed.**_

_**-**_

He supposed it really was appropriate that humans associated ghosts with several different shades of pearly white.

The past was indeed white.

Pearly white, glossy with polish and carefully applied paint, streaks of official colours and mottos of the Highway Patrol displayed as a proud warning for the public eye.

The present was black-

No.

The present was grey.

Murky, disorientated, laced with fading wisps of iridise turquoise, tendrils of sparks extinguished…bordering on the edges of one existence and another.

Worse still…

The possibility of the present was new layers of dark violet hues, with tints of silver and black adorning the once and still familiar features, calm blue optics drowning in bloodied, ruby hues.

"_You shouldn't have come here…even if it was an accident."_

Sighing tiredly, Jazz retracted his visor, offlining his tired optics, covering them with a silver hand elbows resting on his table.

"_Wh-"_

"_You should go." The same voice hissed, tone laced with hurry, annoyance and suppressed concern, optics narrowed as they met with the faint glowing of the cobalt visor. _

_Shaking, black-tinted fingers raised to trace the only outline he could make out, repressing a shiver as the metal underneath his touch was confirmed to be solid._

_So, so solid and so, so familiar…_

"_P-"_

"_NO." the mech hissed at the syllable, wrenching away before reaching forwards to roughly shake the dazed Autobot. "Don't even say it, don't consider it. It's a tangle not worth getting into – just go!"_

_Words and threats washing off him like water off a duck's feathers, Jazz stepped closer and insistently reached forwards to grasp the other's wrists._

"_It /is/ you." It was a question, a statement, a hope raising its fragile little head, waiting to be mercilessly crushed, a confusion voicing itself, clutching his hazy memories of the mech that now lowered its gaze, doorwings (were they doorwings? So dark and smaller and spikier now…) dropping in a familiar, giveaway fashion. _

_Primus…_

"_I dun' understand, Prowler. I dun' understand."_

"_Perhaps it's better that way, Jazz."_

_The gaze was now over his shoulder, hands easing themselves out of his grasp and gently sliding to lace their fingers together._

"_Perhaps it's meant to be that way."_

"_Dun' give me that slag, Prowl! /You/ know what's going on perfectly well, yer just deciding to keep your vocalizer tight an' shut!" Voice rising with misplaced hysteria, Jazz grasped the other's shoulders, mirroring his movements from moments ago, swallowing the emotions that threatened to spill. "What was that – a week ago – was that you? What happened? How-/why/-?"_

"_Ignorance…"_

_His words were soft now, barely audible, faint vapours brushing over the saboteur's neck plating as the tactician dipped his head, optics half-lidded and unfocused with some indistinguishable emotion._

"_Ignorance is a bliss, my dear Jazz."_

"_Y'know I dun' want any of that kind of bliss." He shook his head, voice dropping to a similarly low murmur, arms rising to encircle Prowl's waist tightly, both to confirm himself of his presence and to stop him from…escaping? Slipping out of his grasp?_

"_Especially if it dun' involve you."_

"_You should, Jazz." Prowl now sounded forlorn, despite his own arms draping tightly around the saboteur's frame, returning the embrace in all its desperate and hopeless essence._

"_You really should this once."_

"_Nevah." Jazz shook his head, grip tightening on the other a little. "Y'know I'll nevah give up on y'a. Even if everyone else does."_

"_Yes…"_

_The answer was faint, and despite the small smile gracing his lip components, his eyes, with their irritatingly ambiguous colour, gleamed sadly._

"_I do indeed…" _

It was sad, hanging onto the ghosts of the past.

Yet what was even sadder was the knowledge that he would continue to do so – even if the ghost had morphed and taken a plausible shape on the other side of the line gleaming with the enormous warning of 'DO NOT CROSS'.

Well, well.

He had always been so good at toeing the line.

_Reviews/Comments/Prompts still loved._

_Up Next (Unless Musies have anything to say…): Pumpkin. _


	7. Pumpkin

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86, Hot Rod's Girl for their faves/alerts~ C:

_Hot Rod's Girl: _Jazz is very persistent, ain't he? Lucky, lucky Prowl. XDD

Thank you very much, darling~ :D Your reviews always make me smile.

_PrancingTiger86: _Heeee, sophisticated dictionaries are so much love. Especially those, big thick ones. Very practical for humour and to bash people over the head with~ C:

Thank you so very much and good luck to you too! I'd like to quote my fave anon writer off the District 9 4chan meme – 'FOOK. BRB, WRITING LIKE A MOTHERFOOKER'. XDD

Deadlineistoday, ohPrimussss.

Here's something more silly and lighthearted. Excuse the rusty action scene...I need more practice where those are concerned.

And because I needed to stick in Soundwave and his cassetticons somewhere. I adore that dysfunctional family, seriously, with the single monotone father...XDD

On another note, keep a lookout for another small collection accompanying this fic which will contain the 'outtakes' – that follow on the scenes inspired by the prompts, but didn't fit in because of the world limit. Crack (and slash) guaranteed. XDD I'll post them as soon as I finished the challenge – wish me luuuuuck!

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: G1  
Warnings: Implied slash, moar…ridiculousness…?**_

_**----**_

**4. Pumpkins  
**

"I told you this wasn't a good idea!"

"Right! And you couldn't mention that small little precognitive detail _before we actually went and did it?!_"

"…what does 'precognitive' mean?"

"_Arrrghhhh!_"

"…no, I don't know what that means either."

"Stop being a smartaft!"

Sighing, Ravage lifted her head and delivered a well-aimed whack across the helms of the bickering bits with the end of her tale, accompanied by a glare.

_:Would you two shut your obnoxious vocalizers for half a click?:_

Yelping, Frenzy rubbed his sore helm with a pout, aiming a corresponding glare of his own at the feline cassette.

"Well, it's true, ain't it not?" he demanded sulkily. "If he knew this was going to turn out the way it did, he should have-"

Sighing, Ravage picked herself up from the ground and settled closer to the others, resting her head on her paws, sending small soothing pulses of understanding through their shared bonds.

_:Yes, yes, I do realize. No use wailing about it now. Just keep quiet until they decide to contact Soundwave.:_

"Hoooo-boy. Boss-bot's gonna be pissed."

_:Yes. Now shush, you'll wake up Ratbag. Again.:_

"Well, at least then we'll get to see the

_:Now, Rumble, or you'll find yourself with a mouthful of limbs that belong to you.:_

"…Ravage?"

_:…what?:_

"Can you do that mission-recounting thing now, so we don't have to bother with it when we get back on base?"

_:…you want to recount on how the mission went…? Alright, how about this?:_

-

_**:Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!:**_

Red Alert's emergency warning shrieked through each mech's commline simultaneously, the effect immediate. Weapons were loaded, attentions snapped, footsteps thundered down the corridors of the Ark as the alerted hurried towards the co-ordinates that pin-pointed the location of the intruder.

"It's coming from inside the Ark." Prowl confirmed quietly, flattening against the wall as he waited for Bluestreak and Ironhide to catch up with him, frowning after a few seconds.

"Hey, isn't that the storage room right next to the rec-room?" Bluestreak broke the silence in a whisper, fiddling with his weapon restlessly. "Where Spike and Jazz are storing all the things for the party next week?"

"That's…strange." The Datsun murmured, double checking the co-ordinates and finding the results to be the same. Perhaps Red Alert really has fritzed a few more circuits this time – could have something to do with the fact he only seemed to have recharged once this week…

**:Heads up, Prowl!:**

The tactician was snapped out of his musings by the sudden crackle of his commline, a flustered Blaster on the other side.

**:Sightings on one of them! Target identified as Ravage is heading your way!:**

"**Acknowledged.: **He replied calmly, raising his rifle as the sleek, running figure of the Decepticon feline came charging down the hallway.

However – much to their surprise – Ravage swept past the trio, completely ignoring the armed mechs, and burst into the storage room, snarling in an agitated manner.

Raising an eyebrow, Prowl followed her into the storage compartment – and stopped dead in the doorway.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ironhide tackle Ravage and pin the snarling casseticon to the ground – as well as sense Bluestreak on his left.

He was the one who ultimately broke the silence too.

"Primus, that's…unexpected…ly stupid…ly creative…ly disturbing…ly cute."

-

For once, he would have to credit the youngling for putting the sight into words perfectly.

"Yer joking."

At the shake of his head, Jazz allowed himself to let the laugh he'd been holding in ever since his bondmate walked in with an armful of a…pumpkinful of very familiar Decepticons loose, arms wrapping around his softly shaking figure.

"I'm glad you're finding this so amusing." Prowl remarked in a dry tone, glancing down at the temporarily knocked out Rumble, Frenzy and Ratbag, curled up inside the hollow pumpkin, no doubt prepared by Spike a few nights before. "Red Alert is going to have a field day over this – and so is Spike and the rest of the younglings if pumpkins are put on the list of contraband items."

"I know, but…oh, Primus." Jazz chuckled, straightening up and stepping closer to the tactician, poking Ratbag's helm gently. "S'got t'be the most creative an' stupid way the 'Cons have tried to sabotage us by far."

"Agreed."

"…s'very fitting to the season, though. Sneakin' in, disguised as a pumpkin…"

"They were hiding in the pumpkin."

"Split hairs, would ya."

"Mmm."

"They got knocked out quite easily, won't ya say?"

"Indeed. Fatigue, perhaps. Or the mild processor wiping."

"Ouch. Ratch in a bad mood?"

"Perhaps. I don't think he has it in him so much to torture casseticons though. Not too much, anyways."

"Heh. Awh, look, he's snorin'. Bless his lil' spark."

"…Jazz, you do realize you're talking about one of the most cursed and sly Decepticon spies in current existence?"

"Dun mean he can't be cute, Prowler."

"…"

"What, y'jelaous?"

"…where did you get _that _assumption from?"

"Yer characteristic silence and expression."

"I am not jealous of a knocked out Decepticon spylet…in a pumpkin."

"…you'd look much cuter in a pumpkin, anyhow."

"…I doubt I could fit in one."

"Heh. True."

A companionable silence filled the room, broken by the soft snores of the casseticons and the distant shouting from Prime's office.

"Unless we get Wheeljack t'grow an' mutate one to the right size…"

"Alright, Jazz. You stop thinking now."

"That's not an order I get everyday-"

"_NOW."_

_Comments/Reviews/Prompts are still loved and valued. _

_Up Next (unless Musies have anything to say…): Trick. _


	8. Trick

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86 for such a quik review~ C:

_PrancingTiger86: _Hehehe, you have to give them creative credit, no? :P And Jazz? Shutting up? Unless some sort of smexy reward is involved, I dun think it will be happening. xD

Very fast update~! :D Deadline is still today but I only have two more to go! I CAN MAKE IT I CAN MAKE ITTT! xD

This one is a sequel to 'Costumes' and was suggested by LittleMeanPepperShaker – thanks, hun~ Hope you like what I made of your suggestion C:

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: G1  
Warnings: Implied slash…or just slash…crack/ridicilousness…inappropriate use of famous movie themesongs, I guess. XD**_

_**----**_

**8. Trick  
**

"Are you done yet?"

Repressing a twitch in his optic ridge, Starscream bit back the frustrated screech building up in the back of his throat (along with a few small cables) and shot a glare over his shoulder.

"If I was done, do you think I would still be _standing here so damned fragging close to the Autobot base, in clear sight, when we could all be back at our base, _where we are, oh, I don't know, _not likely to get shot?!_"

"There's no telling what you would do when this mood takes you, Screamer." Skywarp replied easily, smirking as his trine leader made an indignant noise, voice rising an octave – and gracefully ducked the boulder hurled his way. "Ah, yes. I forgot your aim with solid objects becomes worse then usu-OOMF!"

Unfortunately for Skywarp's helm, his observations soured in the next moment (and with the use of a slightly larger boulder).

This, of course, did not stop him from 'engaging in direct and first-hand observation' with his…subject…to 'collect realistic information' (phrases stolen from the former scientist and subsequently slagged-off Aerial Commander, who was no eager to provide Skywarp with 'data' on how an annoyed specimen of Starscream reacts to more 'stimulus').

Rather. Noisily.

So much for subtlety and sabotage…

Sighing and shaking his head in a manner that was both exasperated and fond, Thundercracker shifted from his post of keeping watch to tug his wingmate out of the way as wrench came flying his way with rather lethal precision.

"Knock it off, you two. What part of 'quick and stealthy and _quiet_' do you guys not get?" he sighed, giving the grumbling Skywarp's upper arm a comforting squeeze and his aching, abused helm a quick nuzzle, much to the purple jet's delight. "Although, I gotta say, Starscream, your aim with the wrench is improving."

"…I didn't bring a wrench…"

"And I'd like to have mine back!" a horribly familiar (and cranky) voice behind them grumbled, making the three Seekers stiffen and spin around – to come face to face with what looked like half of the Ark's occupants – with Ratchet in the front, tapping his foot impatiently, hand outstretched expectantly.

The trio blinked for a few minutes, uncomprehending, before Ratchet's impatient cough snapped them out of trance.

"It's a really nice wrench?" Skywarp offered, rubbing his helm again and hastily picking it off the ground.. "Hurts like the Pit."

"Thank you. It's meant to, little glitchead." The medic grumbled, snatching it back, ignoring Ironhide's amused chuckles and close, protective proximity.

"What is your purpose here, Decepticons?" Prowl interrupted, cocking the safety catch on his rifle, looking no less intimidating with a dark cape draped over his shoulders (courtesy of a certain saboteur, no doubt), eyes narrowed as he sized the Seekers and the device they've been attempting to fix on top of the Ark up.

"Yeah, would it have killed ya guys t'give us peace for this one night only?" Jazz chuckled, peeking over Prowl's shoulder before leaning against the tactician's side, hand on his hip.

"Perhaps. It's wise not to risk it." Starscream replied coldly, crossing his arms.

"Nice costume, Jazz." Skywarp piped from beside him, making Starscream glare at him and Thundercracker sigh, lowering his face in his palms.

"Why thank ya. T'was hard to find somethin' original this year. Y'guys going to scare people this year?"

"Yesssssss-ow!"

"Shut it, you slagheap!"

Skywarp opened his mouth to spit back a retort when his eyes caught a gleam of familiar purple paint – on the…unfamiliar side of the faction. Ignoring Starscream, he switched his optics to night-vision – and blanched.

"_What in the Pit_-is that supposed to be-_what_?!"

Eyes and neck swivelled to the trio standing a few lines back – a trio now altered to look startlingly similar to the trio of Seekers, body shape and faces excluded.

Even Thundercracker raised his head, gaze meeting with a very embarrassed Bluestreak before the sniper made a quiet noise of distress and the mechs started chuckling.

"Seeker trine: Autobot repaint edition." Sideswipe supplied with a small laugh, digging his scowling brother in the ribs gently. "Would be a pretty cool thing on the market, don't'cha think?"

"…Primus, Screamer, are you really this fat?" Skywarp hummed thoughtfully as he continued to inspect Sunstreaker, not noticing the hush that fell over the two factions, or the warning flail of hands from the blue jet beside him. "Cuz his costume seems to be, y'know…pretty accurate."

Silence.

The crickets chirped happily, blissfully unaware.

And with a weary sigh and safe behind the doorwings of his bondmate, Jazz switched on his music player to the infamous theme of 'Psycho'.

The next scene was one the Autobots forever chose to remember when things got bad and one needed something funny to distract themselves with (several high-quality copies were made and stored for the entertainment of the generations to come).

Sighing, Thundercracker edged to the outside of the battle zone, taking his seat next to the embarrassed Bluestreak and the thoroughly amused Jazz.

"Is there any particular trail of thought behind this decision?" he ventured to ask.

"They said they wanted t'take advantage of yer lack o'shame."

"…in that case, they should have painted themselves black and white." The Decepticon smirked slightly, glancing sideways.

Prowl, who had been observing the impromptu punch-up with remote interest and attention, now looked to the side, expression blank and unreadable.

"I believe Jazz didn't phrase it correctly. The intentions must have been to replicate lack of shame, without the slyness and ability to remain undetected when engaging in acts that display their lack of shame."

Thundercracker tipped his head back with a laugh.

"Touché."

_Comments/Prompts are still loved. C:_

_Up Next: (Muses…probably can't have a say by now…) Spider Webs, as we continue with the crack and Autobot sitcom dramas._

_Too much fun._


	9. Spider Webs

Holy crap. You guys sure know how to make my crappy morning, don't you? You guys are beyond awesome. :D

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86, Hot Rod's Girl, LittleMeanPepperShaker, SilverWing5566, Knocks and Sslaxx for the awesome reviews ~ C:

(Next time, I'll know not to check my emails in math class when I'm supposed to be revising for the test on Wednesday...epic fail in the making xD).

_PrancingTiger86: _XDDD Glad you found it funny, lovely~ Sunny needs to lay off the energon, huh? Or maybe it's just the shadows~ :P Thank you thank you and congrats, BTW on finishing your challenge too~!

_LittleMeanPepperShaker: _He would make an awesome Decepticon – no wonder there are so many times when the Autobots thank that Prowl is actually on their side. XD (Or in this case, not.)

Ahhh, I see - I don't fancy seeing my lovely mechs in that much pain either D:

Heh, I'm glad I managed to capture that whole bittersweet essence I love (and loathe) in this pairing – Prowl being just out of reach, Jazz never letting go or giving up. C:

The description was snagged from an online dictionary~ C: Not as good as the real thing (can't bash people on the head with 'em) but works. And of course, the Lambo twins are showing their intellect and wide range of knowledge~ :P

I vote Jazz and Wheeljack team up! Prowl-o-Lanterns!! XDD

I adore Soundwave's bitlets. They be the cutest little evil things everrrr~

Skywarp, you really need a few lessons are far as tact is concerned – or at least pay attention to Thundercracker, dammit! XDD

I'm not sure who attacked first, but it was a fight of epic proportions, I can assure you. Skywarp had quite a few dents to hammer out after that...

Long reply is long. Thank you for feeding my Muses, darl, have a cyber cookie~ 3

_Hot Rod's Girl: _I wish I found Decepticon spies in my pumpkins. :P Then again, I don't have pumpkins...

Skywarp needs to learn honesty really isn't the best policy. XDD Or Sunny needs to lay off the late-night high grade ;)

Thank you so very much, hope you enjoy the rest too! *goes to drag Skywarp out of the corner*

_SilverWing5566: _Hehe, he would look adorable, wouldn't he? Not in the same way the little Decepticon spies would, but cute – in a disgruntled way. :3

Subtlety was never Skywarp's strong forte. :P And whoo for appropriate soundtracks! XDD Thank you!

_Knocks: _Seekers will be Seekers. Whether out loud or quietly and slyly. :P Writing them is so very fun. C: Thank you so much for your review!

_Sslaxx: _Heh, nope. Complete accident I believe - *goes searching for the author and story mentioned eagerly*

Whoah, long replies are long. Ah well. Thank you soo much again!!

And for the record, I managed to finish the challenge before the deadline~ :D LJ cuts are evil, I tell you. EVIL.

_And we continue with the crack. Last one, I swear (apart from the Outtakes…). XDD_

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: G1  
Warnings: Implied slash, crack/ridicilousness, mild gore. **_

**9. Spider webs  
(G1)**

"…remind me why I tolerate you lot again."

"Because that's part of your duties as Second in Command?"

"Strange. I don't remember that particular part being in my contract or informative pamphlet when I got promoted."

"Well, obviously. Do you think they would mention this to you right on your first day?"

"…You do realize that's perfectly stable legal grounds to sue?"

"Hey, Optimus didn' lie, Prowler. He merely forgot a few details."

"Or printed them in very small writing."

"KEEP IT DOWN, FRAGGERS!"

"…language."

"Don't, sweetspark. S'the part."

"…which part?"

"_The _part."

"…this is the fourteenth _'the' _part this hour."

"Well, yeah. Seems like there's quite a few o' them in this one."

"…what is she _doing_?"

"…eeeeeeeeew!"

"Blue, keep it down!"

"But that-that-that's _disgusting_!"

"Aaaw, you get squeamish over something like _that_? That's so cuuuuuuute~"

"S-shut up, Sunny! But-ack! Oh, _Primus-_"

"What-right _there? _If they keep doing that they're going t-"

"…"

"Primus, that's disgusting."

"_I know. _WOW._"_

"…did they really have to throw themselves down like that now…"

"Cheer up, Hound. A little fly is very happy somewhere."

"And a spider is now a widow."

"Your processor steady, Prowler?"

"…currently…yes…"

"Phew."

"…I am not sure how long I can maintain its normal…'normal' equilibrium though if the events keep being so…so…"

A chuckle, mingled with more disgusted shrieks and catcalls, as well as a forlorn sigh and a comforting murmur.

"…I thought the shrieking was supposed to come from shrieks of horror and a very different sort of disgust."

"Well then, love, y'shouldn't have let Sunny an' Cliffjumper choose th'movie."

"Indeed…"

Shrieks. Smoochy sounds. A patronizing groan and a few tissues snagged.

"…would it have been a wiser decision to let Mirage choose something?"

"…uh…"

"…?"

"Do you remember the last time we were like this an…an…uh, practically everyone was bawlin' their sparks out?"

"…that was his movie choice?"

"Yah."

"…I digress."

"Aw, admit it. Y'liked that movie too."

"…Jazz, watch the spiders. They might decide to lay eggs in the couple's ears and turn this dragging motion picture around to something more enjoyable."

"…love, y'need t'lay off Ironhide's movie collection. Really."

Shrieking.

Faint giggling.

Curses in that terribly ugly humane fashion coming from the screen.

"Then again, y'have improved with yer suggestions as far as cultural references are concerned. M'impressed."

"Thank you."

Sniffling. Shrieking. Obnoxious femme laughter.

"…this blows."

"Monkey balls."

"I wish she would turn into a huge giant spider and start chewing his head off."

"…and why would she do that? She loves him!"

"Exactly."

"…I…don't follow…"

"Wouldn't be the first time…OW!"

"Black Widows have the tendency to devour their mate right after mating to provide sufficient protein for the growing younglings. It is a necessary sacrifice the males are clearly aware of once encountering the chance of mating."

Silence.

Shrieking. More obnoxious laughter.

"Alrigh', mechs, the voice of reassurance an' wisdom has spoken. Keep watchin'. Sunny, turn it up a little."

Sunstreaker oblidged, shuddering slightly before glancing at his brother.

"Let's be glad Prowl's not a femme then…"

"…or that we don't know he's one yet."

"…I really didn't need that image…"

Arguments. Shrieking.

-

20 mins later…

-

"OH MY GOD, SHE IS EATING HIM!!"

_Has anyone seen the little remainders of my sanity? I had it a few days ago…XDDD_

_Reviews/Prompts are still loved and welcomed._

_Next up (No, Musies really don't have a say this time…): Crescent Moon._


	10. Crescent Moon

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86, Hot Rod's Girl and Sslaxx for the awesome reviews ~ C:

_PrancingTiger86: _Pffft. Maturity? For grown ups? Overrated. Overrated, I (and the majority of the Ark) say! XDD

Thank you, glad you enjoyed! I have a feeling that prompt will get its own outtake. Because Prowl's suffering through various movies if just too entertaining to pass up.

_Hot Rod's Girl: _Interesting indeed is a good way of phrasing it. XDD My friend uses it to politely describe terrible things...thank you very much though! Glad you found it funny~ C:

_Sslaxx: _Oh, her! I've read her comic halfway through before my connection crashed and refused to download the images D: I love her stuff~ XDD

This chapter is quite heavily influenced by the game Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 – a truly awesome game for anyone who has a chance to play it, I very warmly recommend it. Kickass story, beautiful graphics, clever structure and such a unique atmosphere. It was mainly the theme song that bought this chapter about – as well as the continuous presence of the moon throughout the game – in a beautiful, eerie way.

The song is definitely worth a listen, you can find good quality versions up on Youtube.

This chapter takes place somewhere between 'Fog' and 'Darkness' – so, after Prowl's modification, but before his memories sharpen back out and he meets Jazz again.

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: G1  
Warnings: Implied slash? Some psychological fuckups. **_

**6. Crescent Moon  
(AU 2007 Movieverse)**

_Dreamless dorm, ticking clock  
I walk away from the soundless room  
Windless night, moonlight melts  
My ghostly shadow to the lukewarm gloom  
Nightly dance of bleeding swords  
Reminds me that I still live_

I will burn my dread  
I once ran away from the god of fear  
And he chained me to despair

Burn my dread  
I'll break the chain  
And run till I see the sunlight again

I'll lift my face and run to the sunlight.

_**Burn My Dread - Yumi Kawamura**__ (Persona 3)_

Night fell again, and along with the lengthened shadows, he too could surface safely.

As if with the new coats of black paint and old colours – whatever they were, stripped away – his tolerance for the daytime and daylight had vanished too.

It wasn't a new limit – more like a new nuisance. Those twelve hours of the day merely irritated him.

Shaking his head, the dark police cruiser allowed the empty Energon cube to slip out of his grasp, clattering on the floor, the slight sound echoing in the eerie silence.

What a strange concept to introduce to one's processor – the fact that the lair of the much-dreaded Decepticons could be so quiet.

So disturbingly peaceful.

So…distressingly…

Civil.

It made the little parts of his fuzzy memories – the ones that didn't seem to get corrupted in the midst of whatever procedure he underwent by the hands of Hook and Soundwave – rather…awkward and strange.

Decepticons, destroyers of the innocent? Sparkling-eating monstrosities?

Honestly, now he just felt like a right fool.

Naïve fool, sitting on the sides and observing, soaking up textual evidence….

Another soft sigh, followed by faint, careful footsteps and clicks of oiled hinges as the door swished open, allowing the resident of the room to take his presence outside.

Branches crunched under sleek pedes, ebony paint blotched with luminous shades of blue and starlight-grey, glossy claws traced tips and textures of whatever surrounding him caught his attention, bound with the slight fascination the new perspective through new instruments bought him.

Behind him, the moon filled the sky with its sickly, beautiful fluorescence, flooding the inky, midnight sky with neon yellow and green.

And it wasn't even a full moon yet.

The elegant crescent arc offered but a shadow of the eerie magnificence of a complete lunar cycle could.

Well…if he wanted to get technical, half of a complete lunar cycle.

For once, though, severed pieces of a fact had no effect whatsoever on the natural phenomenon.

Luna, or _selēnē. _

For whatever strange reason, he found himself reminiscing over old tales his colleague once entertained him with, over a century ago, when office work was still a realistic ambition, without daily bomb raids and voluntary bloodshed.

Selene was the name of the Goddess of the moon. Her heart was captured by a beautiful prince, Endymion. Selene asked Zeus to grant him eternal sleep so that he would stay forever young and thus would never leave her.

That was one version.

Alternatively, Endymion made the decision to live forever in sleep, leaving Selene to kneel beside his bed every night, praying for a response but never receiving any.

Sighing, he dropped the small organic he had been examining to the ground, raising blood red optics to the tinted sky once more.

_Mech…what was your name?_

A kaleidoscope of broken shards, exploding from his processor, both conscious and unconscious, as if one pulled the trigger of a gun, pointed to his temple.

_You who walked in the sunlight…with the ivory paint and the cobalt gaze?_

Each piece is a part of the sea of one's soul. Together – they form magnificent images, beautiful, powerful creatures, essences of life, existence…life.

_Who are you and where were you before I was chained to despair by my own fears and dreads of the unknown?_

He was caught previously. Like a moth to the flame, a fly in the web, locked inside a dark room by childish and cruel intentions.

_Who was I before the battles became the centre of my world, the sole reminder that I was still here and how sweet it was to be alive?_

When the world was coloured in all spectres of the prism, not just black, purple, green and the fluorescence of spilt blood and the crescent moon.

_Tell me your name._

I am thou and thou art me…thou shalt have our blessing when thou sees the truth behind the truth…when thou shalt follow your own path, not the path the Gods have pushed you onto and ordered to walk.

_Tell me what to scream once I'm free. _

The wind stirred. Somewhere, in the distance, the silent clock chimed the approaching presence of midnight.

_Tell me who to call when I run back into the light, with the bloodied moonlight becoming silver and clean in my spark._

_For I cannot remember._

…_tell me. _

_I'm waiting._

_Comments are still loved._

_Up Next: Graveyard. _


	11. Graveyard

A very big thank you to WolvesFire77 for the fave/story alert ~ C:

Nearly there...I'm actually quite sad this collection will finish in two chapters' time :C Ah well, spin-off time? XDD

This chapter takes place somewhere after 'Ghost' – so, after Prowl's modification and after he had allowed Jazz to escape Decepticon clutches. There's (surprisingly) no angst here...maybe I really should write this story out in full and not just snippets...

Also, slashier chapter. Not as explicit as I might have once wanted it to be…I was running out of time though. D:

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: AU 2007 Movieverse  
Warnings: Slash, some bondage. **_

**12. Graveyard  
**

My heart's a graveyard, baby  
And to evil we make love  
On our passion's killing floor  
In my arms, you won't sleep safely  
And of lust we are reborn  
On our passion's killing floor  
**Him – Passion's Killing Floor**

_Passion_

–_noun_

_**1. any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.**_

_**2. strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.**_

_**3. strong sexual desire; lust.**_

_**4. a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire.**_

_**5. a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything**_

_**6. the object of such a fondness or desire**_

_**7. an outburst of strong emotion or feeling**_

**+ Demonstrations that contribute against the popular belief that our resident tactician does not have any feelings or a libido whatsoever.**

_**Which is a pretty crazy thing to assume with mechs like our resident saboteur (and others, whom we will not name individually because we'll run out of memory). **_

_**/Edited by Sunstreaker/Sideswipe. Edit not yet approved./**_

Some had called it passion.

Others had called it lust.

"Aaah…"

Certain human (and Cybertronian) poets and writers love to elaborate on these delicate collection of feelings as pieces of art, poetry, a palette of ecstasy and electric bliss.

"Nghh…"

Others labelled it as an obsession.

Forbidden. Pleasurable. Maddeningly delicious.  
Addictive.  
And once you had a taste, you were lost forever.

"D-don't stop…"

Jazz's throaty moan, coming from above him, was a very welcome and pleasant distraction from the brief inner musings the police cruiser had gotten himself engaged in. Smirk widening, he grasped the other's firm behind, a chuckle escaping him as he felt the silver mech shudder, legs tightening their hold where they were nestled in the crook of his elbow.

Managing to maintain his balance, still straddling the tactician's chest, the saboteur glanced down at his reclining mate, dimmed visor gleaming with faint amusement and arousal.

"Still so adept an' skilled with yer mouth, baby." He purred in the smooth tone he knew drove Prowl crazy, grin widening as he felt the Datsun's grip tighten over him, possessive and urgent.

"Oh, you have no idea."

"I do-oooh." Jazz groaned, promptly deciding to melt as previously mentioned talented glossa began to trace along the smooth panels of his lower abdomen, heated metal crackling with static as they made contact. "M-mhmm…m'not sure about yer choice fer th'oooh…o-th'location though…"

"It's the closest I could find that wouldn't arouse suspicion." Prowl offered as an explanation, suckling on the edge of a protective panel before nipping along the joints, enjoying the smooth, metallic flavour of his trembling mate. "Besides, I think it sets the mood rather nicely…"

Jazz let out another breathless laugh at that, glancing around at the ivy-covered stone boulders surrounding them. "M'…m'not sure whether I should be disturbed or strangely and inexplicably aroused."

"I'd choose the latter. Much wiser and pleasurable choice."

"Mmmhmm…"

"I love it when you do that." Prowl whispered against the other's thigh, fangs scraping along a transformation seam lightly, making Jazz tremble and choke out another soft cry.

"So kinky." The saboteur laughed breathlessly, chest heaving slightly as his vents cycled in vain attempt to keep his inner temperature from peaking any further, testing the cuffs again that held his wrists prisoner and pinned behind his back. "Full o' surprises, y'are, Prowler…"

Passion, lust, darkness, restraint, mutual trust, lack of trust, unknown, sparks, the forbidden. Dare he say…love… – and a healthy dosing of supernatural echoes of their surroundings.

In his humble opinion (and his mate's, if his now escalating cries were anything to go by). he perfect recipe for a processor-blowing evening.

_Comments/reviews are still loved and used to feed starving Muses._

_Up Next: Treat._


	12. Treat

A very big thank you to PrancingTiger86, Hot Rod's Girl and LittleMeanPepperShaker for the awesome reviews ~ C:

_PrancingTiger86: _And some call Prowl unimaginative. Decepticon upgrades sure have interesting side effects...

Thank you so much, darling! Hope you like the new updates~ C:

_Hot Rod's Girl: _Thank so much, darlin'~ w First time dabbling in writing big giant robot lovin'. I'm glad you liked~ C:

_LittleMeanPepperShaker: _DDDD: B-but he wasn't breakin' any rules! Not...technically anyways! It never says in the rule books yer not allowed to sneak out of base to morally questionable places for a quick nookie with...a member of the opposing forces...uh.

...Optimus is going to have a field day, isn't he...? XDD

Honestly though, are y'surprised at what our saboteur gets up to? XDDD

Thank you very much! I'm meddlin' in alien (HAH) territory over here, so I'm glad you found it smexy :P

Aaah, the bunnies are so tempting. Thank you for the encouragement nonetheless – we'll see how they bite. :D

A direct sort of sequel stemming from 'Crescent Moon', so maybe reading that one first would be recommended. C:

As far as chronological order goes with this AU, it would be something like:

Fog – Crescent Moon – Darkness – Ghost – Graveyard – Treat – Thirteen (up next).

Again, heavy influence by the game Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 and its awesome theme song - definitely worth a listen, you can find good quality versions up on Youtube.

Personally, I think this is my favourite prompt. C: Be nice to me, readers? I had an absolute killer day with a maths test I most probably failed and am in need of cheering up._ /pathetic_

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs. **_

_**Universe: AU 2007 Movieverse  
Warnings: Implied slash, some (former) psychological fuckups. **_

**11. Treat**

_Voiceless town, tapping feet  
I clench my fists in pockets tight  
Far in mist a tower awaits  
Like a merciless tomb, devouring moonlight_

Clockwork maze end unknown  
In frozen time a staircase stands  
Shadows crawl on bloodstained floor  
I rush straight ahead with a sword in hands  
Cold touch of my trembling gun  
I close my eyes to hear you breathe

Burn my dread  
Burn my dread  
I will burn my dread  
This time I'll grapple down that god of fear  
And throw him into hell's fire  
_**Burn My Dread - Yumi Kawamura**__ (Persona 3)  
_

Smoke billowed around his battered frame, curling and caressing as his rifle dropped to the ground beside him with an unceremonious clatter.

It was over.

The façade. The disguise. The sudden task of being a double-agent. The double-crossing. The doubts. The confusion.

The confusion…

The confusion still lingered.

He may have severed the sudden ties that bound him someplace else where he belonged – or so he told himself. He still had a processor full of corrupted memories, an alt mode he no longer recognized as his own, now bruised and battered – and the shadows of menacing dangers.

The shadows no longer protected him.

Above him, the setting sun drenched the endless sky in battle colours – crimson, orange, indigo-fused purple.

Strangely though, they bore no resemblance to spilt blood, like he had come accustomed to associating the hues of the night sky with.

Raising a hand to shield his optics, Prowl – no…he did not bear the ownership over this name again…not yet…- frowned at the sudden tingling sensation along his body.

Sunlight.

_Mech, what is your name?_

He was walking in sunlight again.

_Which planes of existence do you tread?_

Dying sunlight, perhaps, but…it was sunlight nevertheless.

_Do you wish…for company?_

Lighting him in his true colours, stripping him of the shadows for the world to see.

_Do you wish for me to accompany you?_

And the world – the entire world – was condensed in that one mech standing next to the wreckage of past and present colliding.

_Help me remember._

The mech whose light footsteps were growing closer, his soothing and extravagant presence brushing over him like a refreshing breeze, urging him to draw him closer.

_I want to remember._

Sleek silver fingers traced along the scratched protective panel along his arms, the bold letters declaring belonging to the local police force now smudged. The soft touch lingered – soothing, assuring, curiously exploring – before the hand dropped, sliding to enlace with a clawed black one.

"_M'Jazz."_

Slowly, as if asking permission, every movement wary yet understanding of rejection, the silver fingers tightened their hold on the other's hand.

"_Nice t'meet'cha, Prowler."_

Red optics – it would be temporary now, he reminded himself, soon…they will be blue once more…- washed over the tilted helm of the saboteur before returning the pressure against his curled hand, gently tugging him closer.

"…_you obviously have no idea of the circumstances…"_

"_Prowl." Jazz sighed softly, expression slightly exasperated and spark-wrenchingly hopeful. "…I might be no Soundwave as far as mind readin's concerned, but I'm pretty sure I know what I want. An' he's standin' right in front of me now."_

_Prowl made a soft noise in the back of his throat, finding himself unable to tear his gaze away from that characteristically glowing visor he had grown to love so much in the past vorns._

_Part of the many things he had grown to love about the black and white mech…_

"_C…can I hold you to your word on that one?" he whispered after a pause that seemed like eternity._

_Relief flitted across Jazz's features before the saboteur cupped his cheeks and drew him close, hot breath washing over his lips._

"_I'll give y'more then jest words to hold onto, Prowl."_

The smile that still made his spark flutter had graced the corners of his lips again, gaze finally lifting off the rubble to meet the tactician's.

"_There are many paths t'be tread."_

A silver thumb rubbed against black knuckles in a comforting, fond fashion.

"_I choose my own – the one of the moment, livin' it an' walkin' on it like it will end on the very next bend."_

Dipping his head, Prowl – yes…he could…he might just could reclaim this name yet – gently nuzzled Jazz, touching their foreheads together in an intimate, bashful gesture. Jazz chuckled quietly in return, free hand sliding up to carefully cup the other's bruised cheek.

"_I choose the path in the light."_

Sunlight reflected off the cracked surface of the gleaming visor. A smooth finger caressed his cheek in an endearing fashion – a beautiful mockery of his own actions, so long ago it seems now? – before the saboteur tilted his head, crossing the line between polite ritual and something much more intimate in a smooth move.

"_And I want to show you all the beautiful things that bloom on the sides of this road."_

Lips parted, tastes mingled, limbs entwined and clung with a manner that was both desperate and tender, urgent but careful.

_Will you accompany me?_

The sun scoured over her kingdom in a moment of dying glory, bathing both figures in burning shades of mechanical colour, trembling in the wake of gentle movement.

And amongst their silent exchanges, Prowl smiled.

_It would be my utmost pleasure._

-

_:)_

_Reviews/comments still loved._

_Next up: (Last one!) Thirteen._


	13. Thirteen

A very big thank you to Hot Rod's Girl and Mirage Shinkiro for the awesome reviews ~ C:

_Hot Rod's Girl: _I'm such a sucker for a happy ending for these two at the end of a long, rough road. Thank you so much, glad you liked it~ :D

_Mirage Shinkiro: _Glad you liked them. XDD Your short and prompt reviews make me oh-so happy. C:

Well, my lovelies, it's the end...thank you so very much to all of you guys who had reviewed, favourited, alerted and/or read this story. You guys are all awesome and I hope to see all of you again on future stories.

I hope this chapter concludes things nicely – I was running out of words and time, so I couldn't elaborate as much as I could have. Ah well.

Inspirations – the awesome manga series _Tarot Café, _and (again) _Persona 3 _(enemy types and ability types are divided into arcanes of tarot). And thank you, Wikipedia.

_Timeline:_

Fog – Crescent Moon – Darkness – Ghost – Graveyard – Treat – Thirteen (up next).

_I hope you enjoy~_

------

_**Disclaimer: I own the plot, not the mechs or the song lyrics. **_

_**Universe: AU 2007 Movieverse  
Warnings: Slash, some psychological fuckups, hinted torture and intimacy. **_

**13. Thirteen**

It had happened again.

With a weary sigh, Prowl let his head drop into his hands, tired optics closing for a few seconds.

They had returned again – those strange dreams.

Once it had been a tree with thick branches, the other time a forked road with numerous paths – but one thing was common.

Thirteen.

There were always thirteen choices.

Thirteen scenarios, thirteen decisions.

All mutually exclusive – choosing one automatically meant loosing all twelve others…yet how he was meant to decide was left rather vague.

Well – the 'help' provided didn't offer as much guidance as he had hoped for – despite being in the format he was used to processing information in.

_Fool._

_A spirit in search of experience. He represents the mystical cleverness bereft of reason within us, the childlike ability to tune into the inner workings of the world. Appreciation of beauty. He is seemingly unconcerned that he is standing on a precipice, apparently about to step off._

To be honest and frank, this whole thing had started off when a fool appeared in his life, all warmth and nonchalance, heart as open and loving as a sparkling's.

Intuitive and carefree, he was everything the Datsun was not.

_Lovers_

_Choice ----- Doubt ----- Difficult decision ----- Dilemma ----- Temptation_

_The Lovers represent the impulse that drives us out of the Garden, towards adulthood. An impulse that manifests as curiosity, sexual desire; sometimes it manifests as duty. _

A new feeling – an impulse – as sweet as it was foreign.

_Whatever it is, once we have stepped past the threshold, there is no returning to the garden._

Yet the temptation to give in was almost unbearable – so close, so sweet, so willing – it was excruciating to have to discard it to the side.

Chariot

_Conquest ----- Honor ----- Victory ----- Energy_

_Self confidence ----- Conviction ----- Anxiety_

_Willpower ----- Self assertion ----- Hard control ----- Discipline_

Attempts at conquest were still made – there was no deterring him. It tested the limits of Prowl's willpower to the extreme. Every excuse was made on both sides – honour, conquest, discipline…

Justice

_Distance ----- Coldness ----- Justice_

_Objective mind----- Criticism ----- Insensitivity_

_Decision ----- Intellect ----- Analysis ----- Realism ----- Severity_

_Responsibility ----- Rationality ----- Logic and reason_

The events simply stood no logical ground – the benefits were outweighed by the doubts and potential dangers it could pose to them…to him…

That was his reasoning when he retreated behind clipped words and a cold shoulder.

Hermit

_* Introspection ----- Silence----- Reflection_

_* Solitude ----- Looking inwards_

_* Inner search ----- Isolation_

_* Distance ----- Retreat_

He chose to withdraw further into himself – but the more introspection he made, the more unsettled he became and longer the silence stretched in the outer world.

Hanged Man

_* Sacrifice ----- Letting go ----- Surrendering ----- Passivity_

_* New point of view ----- Contemplation_

_* Conformism ----- Nonaction ----- Waiting ----- Giving up_

It was no surprise, in some wry way, that while he stood motionless, life raced past them in her usual destructive and corrosive fashion.

Time did not wait – not for him – not for him…

Death

_* Ending of a cycle ----- Loss ----- Conclusion ----- Sadness_

_* Transition into a new state ----- Psychological transformation_

_* Being caught in the inescapable ----- Good-byes ----- Deep change_

The end – in every aspect – caught him completely off-guard. It was a transition he secretly hoped he would never, ever have to go through, as he clung to the severed ends of the bonds torn by Death…

Devil

_* Lust ----- Obsession ----- Anxiety ----- Anger_

_* Passion ----- Animal instincts_

He was practically devouring his bound mate – so thankful to see him again, desperate to feel him close again, despite the situation, despite the fact everything was different now…everything was wrong now…

Tower

_* Chaos ----- Sudden change ----- Impact ----- Hard times_

_* Crisis ----- Revelation ----- Disruption ----- Realizing the truth_

It had been only so little time ago that he struggled in the enemy's claws, spark and broken vocalizer shrieking out in agony…as they turned him into something else… 

Star

_* Calmness ----- Trust_

_* Hope ----- Serenity ----- Inspiration ----- Generosity_

_* Good will ----- Optimism ----- Harmony ----- Renewal of forces_

But his presence soothed all the raging demons inside him – reconciled feelings, confessions he thought he would never have a chance to say again…the relief at being accepted and forgiven…

Moon. 

_* Lack of clarity ----- Tension ----- Doubt ----- Fantasy_

_* Deception ----- Psychological conflict ----- Obscured vision_

_* Confusion ----- Illusion ----- Fear ----- Imagination ----- Worry_

_* Romanticism ----- Anxiety ----- Apprehension ----- Unrealistic ideas_

But with the corrupted memory, all the history, the confusion remained, iron fist choking his spark and small seeds of hope – fears deepened as he loosened the bonds and let his mate escape…

Sun

_* Optimism---Expansion---Being radiant---Positive feelings_

_Splendor---Brilliance---Joy ---Enthusiasm_

He came back, though. Radiating all the warmth he had the first time he laid optics on him.

"Prowl?"

Starting at the sudden voice, Prowl snatched his head up – to be met with amused optics.

"What'cha getting' yer processor in a twist 'bout?"

Regarding the other mech – his Fool – his Lover – his Sun – the Datsun smiled with sudden realization as all the puzzle pieces clicked in place.

"Jazz?"

"Hmm?"

"Numbers One to Thirteen?"

"…Thirteen. Why?"

Glancing down at his hands, Prowl just smiled secretively before tugging his surprised mate into a kiss.

Judgement

_* Judgment ----- Rebirth ----- Inner Calling ----- Absolution_

_* Restart ----- Accepting past mistakes/actions ----- Release_

_* Forgiveness ----- End of repression ----- Reconciliation ----- Renewal_

_* Decision ----- Salvation ----- New beginning ----- Hope ----- Redemption._

_**Burn my dread  
I'll shrug the pain  
And run till I see the sunlight again**_

Oh I will run burning all regret and dread  
And I will face the sun with pride of the living.

-

_Reviews/Prompts are still loved._

_Thank you again, for reading, and hope to see you on the Outtakes!_


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